Webb?" Carrie asked.
"My mother was apparently a wild child. My father picked my brother Scott's name, and so he had this really normal Scott Webb thing going on. My mother named me Spider. I didn't really know her because she died in a car wreck when I was real young, two or three. I always thought that my name was the way my mother made sure she'd always be with me. Everything I know about my mother I know because of my name. My father never talked about her, and wouldn't allow us to, either. To this day I don't know why." Her voice changed took on a bitter edge. "Maybe just because he was a mean, bitter old son of a bitch." She looked around then, seeming to realize that she had been speaking aloud.
Tommy was shocked. Fifteen years he'd known this woman, and he hadn't known any of that. He'd never even thought to ask about her name; it was just her name.
"Carrie," Spider said, looking at Carrie and obviously wanting to change the subject. "That's Celtic isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. It means . . . "
"Dark one," Spider said.
"Yes," Carrie said with surprise and slightly raised eyebrows. "How did you . . . "
"She reads too much," Tommy answered.
Carrie looked across the truck at Spider. She was taking her back to the courthouse and Carrie's car.
"Dinner was good," Carrie said conversationally. "I like Italian food."
"Bartelo's is my favorite restaurant."
"So Laura said," Carrie said with a smile. With Spider's attention on the road she gave her a good looking over without fear of being caught. Externally she couldn't find one thing she didn't like. The woman's hands were freakishly large, but she didn't necessarily think that was a bad thing, not if she knew how to use them—and Carrie had a feeling she did. But there was no doubt that Spider Webb was trouble, a person carrying baggage filled with secrets. Carrie had a suspicion that there were things you'd never know about Spider Webb, no matter how intimate you became. Of course all these things that should have been ringing all her warning bells only made Carrie want Spider that much more.
Carrie had long ago accepted that she was a decidedly unhealthy girl.
She could tell Spider was attracted to her, too. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her the way Spider Webb had tonight, with something more than just lust. Carrie was having those "this might actually be something" feelings which were usually nonexistent on a first date.
Involuntarily she started thinking about all the things she could do to Spider. All of the things she wanted her to do to her. I wish she wasn't hell-bent on taking me back to my car. I know it's too soon, but I really want to be with her. The last thing I want to do tonight is go back to my empty house and an empty bed. I wish she'd pull this car over, and . . .
Suddenly Spider flipped a big U-turn in the middle of the road and headed back the other way. Carrie expected her to pop a light on the roof and activate a siren, but she obviously wasn't in pursuit of anyone.
"What the hell?"
Spider swallowed. "Want to go to my place?" she asked nervously.
"Ah . . . what?" My god! I sound like a fucking idiot . "I'd love to."
Carrie looked at the clock. It was one in the morning. She had an early court date and no change of clothes, and she just didn't give a damn. She lay more on Spider than beside her, enjoying the feel of Spider's hands where they caressed her back.
"Can I stay?" she asked, surprised to find that she suddenly felt shy.
"Yes." They kissed again. This time gently, lovingly.
Spider turned out the light, and Carrie moved to wrap herself around her. She couldn't bear to let her go. How can I feel like this? I hardly know this woman, yet she knows me, what I want, what I need. Please God don't let me be reading her wrong, don't let this be a one way thing.
"You can stay as long as you like,"
"My mother was apparently a wild child. My father picked my brother Scott's name, and so he had this really normal Scott Webb thing going on. My mother named me Spider. I didn't really know her because she died in a car wreck when I was real young, two or three. I always thought that my name was the way my mother made sure she'd always be with me. Everything I know about my mother I know because of my name. My father never talked about her, and wouldn't allow us to, either. To this day I don't know why." Her voice changed took on a bitter edge. "Maybe just because he was a mean, bitter old son of a bitch." She looked around then, seeming to realize that she had been speaking aloud.
Tommy was shocked. Fifteen years he'd known this woman, and he hadn't known any of that. He'd never even thought to ask about her name; it was just her name.
"Carrie," Spider said, looking at Carrie and obviously wanting to change the subject. "That's Celtic isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. It means . . . "
"Dark one," Spider said.
"Yes," Carrie said with surprise and slightly raised eyebrows. "How did you . . . "
"She reads too much," Tommy answered.
Carrie looked across the truck at Spider. She was taking her back to the courthouse and Carrie's car.
"Dinner was good," Carrie said conversationally. "I like Italian food."
"Bartelo's is my favorite restaurant."
"So Laura said," Carrie said with a smile. With Spider's attention on the road she gave her a good looking over without fear of being caught. Externally she couldn't find one thing she didn't like. The woman's hands were freakishly large, but she didn't necessarily think that was a bad thing, not if she knew how to use them—and Carrie had a feeling she did. But there was no doubt that Spider Webb was trouble, a person carrying baggage filled with secrets. Carrie had a suspicion that there were things you'd never know about Spider Webb, no matter how intimate you became. Of course all these things that should have been ringing all her warning bells only made Carrie want Spider that much more.
Carrie had long ago accepted that she was a decidedly unhealthy girl.
She could tell Spider was attracted to her, too. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at her the way Spider Webb had tonight, with something more than just lust. Carrie was having those "this might actually be something" feelings which were usually nonexistent on a first date.
Involuntarily she started thinking about all the things she could do to Spider. All of the things she wanted her to do to her. I wish she wasn't hell-bent on taking me back to my car. I know it's too soon, but I really want to be with her. The last thing I want to do tonight is go back to my empty house and an empty bed. I wish she'd pull this car over, and . . .
Suddenly Spider flipped a big U-turn in the middle of the road and headed back the other way. Carrie expected her to pop a light on the roof and activate a siren, but she obviously wasn't in pursuit of anyone.
"What the hell?"
Spider swallowed. "Want to go to my place?" she asked nervously.
"Ah . . . what?" My god! I sound like a fucking idiot . "I'd love to."
Carrie looked at the clock. It was one in the morning. She had an early court date and no change of clothes, and she just didn't give a damn. She lay more on Spider than beside her, enjoying the feel of Spider's hands where they caressed her back.
"Can I stay?" she asked, surprised to find that she suddenly felt shy.
"Yes." They kissed again. This time gently, lovingly.
Spider turned out the light, and Carrie moved to wrap herself around her. She couldn't bear to let her go. How can I feel like this? I hardly know this woman, yet she knows me, what I want, what I need. Please God don't let me be reading her wrong, don't let this be a one way thing.
"You can stay as long as you like,"
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